


Highway - The Chase

by fourtseven



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Car Sex, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:49:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6213295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fourtseven/pseuds/fourtseven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short fic for Supercat March Madness - Smut week.</p><p>Cat and Kara are in the car. Kara can't keep her hands to herself.</p><p>Inspired by the movie "The Chase" with Kristy Swanson except there's no criminals or police. Really, it's just car sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Highway - The Chase

**Author's Note:**

> Please, excuse any mistakes.

“Damn it, Kara. Not yet,” Cat says, batting away the amorous hands for what seems like the hundredth time in the last hour. Each time she thinks she’s been gifted a reprieve, Kara’s hands return to trail down her neck, dip into her unbuttoned blouse— courtesy of the roaming fingers— caress her arm or, heaven forbid, that spot on her inner thigh that she just  _ knows  _ dampens Cat’s panties  _ every. single. time _ .

Normally, she welcomes these little touches, occasionally even begs for them, but at the moment they’re traveling 75 miles per hour down a small, two-lane highway towards a cabin retreat that she bought on a whim for their second wedding anniversary, and Cat is struggling to pay more attention to the road than the fingers between her legs. Deft hands tease the elastic band of her underwear, and she can feel them slip through the wetness that coats her thighs—her panties failing to contain over an hour’s worth of sensual torment. She curses the fact that she’s wearing a skirt for their trip and not something more sensible (and less accessible) like pants. Of course, she’s absolutely positive that not even a steel-forged chastity belt can keep Kara from what she craves.

Cat can’t stop a moan from escaping her lips as two of her wife’s fingers edge under the lace and dip ever-so-slightly into the pool of moisture before tracing the lips up towards her clit. Her hips buck at the first touch causing her foot to press heavily on the accelerator, jerking the car forward. The sudden increase of speed startles both of them enough that Kara slips her fingers out from between Cat’s thighs.

Cat’s heart races, and she mourns the loss of touch, but she has enough sense left to bring the car back under control. She can’t stop the tiny jerk of her hips seeking the lost pressure on her clit, and she is tempted to press her own hand there for relief, but she slows the car down, even slower than the speed limit calls for because knowing her wife, the teasing isn’t over yet.

She forces herself to keep her eyes on the road ahead and not on the woman seated next to her, but a moan draws her attention just in time to watch Kara suck one glistening finger into her mouth.

“Fuck,” Cat groans. The car swerves and she can’t help but think that if the sight of her wife licking Cat’s arousal off her fingers is the last she sees, well, she will die happily. Kara merely chuckles, though, as if the thought of a high-speed crash caused by her teasing amuses her, and drags her now clean finger from between her lips.

“Want a taste?” she asks, offering the other finger still coated in juices.

“Fuck!” Cat’s vocabulary always seems to drop to the level of a thirteen year old boy when sex becomes involved. This happens every time. Kara’s touch short circuits her brain causing  unintelligible babble and uninventive curse words to spring forth from her mouth, all of which the younger woman finds delightful. “You know I do,” she says as she grabs the hand and pulls it to her lips.

Keeping one hand on the wheel and the other hand around Kara’s wrist, Cat’s tongue flicks out to taste her own arousal, a practice they are always eager to engage in, before pulling the finger into her mouth. Kara lets loose another moan that unravels the common sense of both women.

Glancing around and not seeing any cars on this empty stretch of highway, Cat maneuvers the car to the shoulder. Once the car is parked, she reaches below to the bar that repositions the driver’s seat and yanks it, shoving the seat back to its limit. There’s no time for finesse; Cat disengages both of their seat belts and yanks her wife into her lap so the two muscular thighs straddle her own.

“My panties are soaked, and I would love nothing more than to fuck you in our bed,” she states, pushing the hem of Kara’s t-shirt up until the underside of her breasts are revealed. She places her hands just under their curves. “The bed that is only forty minutes away. But you,” Cat teases as her thumbs brush over stiffened peaks, “couldn’t stop your greedy little hands from touching me, could you?”

“No,” she gasps. “Please, Cat.”

The older woman withdraws her hands and the t-shirt falls back into place. “Uh-uh. You were so impatient earlier, finish what you started.” 

Kara grasps both sides of the partially unbuttoned shirt and pulls, sending the remaining buttons flying. This isn’t the first time that Cat has lost a shirt due to her wife’s impatience— a sight that never fails to send her to the brink of orgasm— and she prays to every deity she knows that it won’t be the last.

As soon as the blouse is taken care of and each breast is given a quick kiss, hands move to the hem of Cat’s god-forsaken skirt and attempt to shove it up her thighs; both want it out of the way, and the sooner the better. She needs her wife’s hands between her thighs stroking her clit and at the moment, the damn skirt is nothing but a hindrance.

“Lift,” comes the soft demand.

More than happy to oblige, she lifts her hips as much as she can in the limited space that the driver’s seat and steering wheel allows them. It’s enough, though, because Kara manages slip the skirt up to Cat’s hips revealing her saturated red-silk panties. With the freedom her legs now have, she moves her right leg over the center console, leaving Kara riding her left. 

“By Rao, I love how wet you always are for me,” her wife says breathlessly, gazing at the darkened patch of fabric between Cat’s thighs.

“Only for you,” she chuckles as she grabs the desperately needed hand and places it between her legs. “Inside. Now,” she says more seriously.

Kara wastes no time, rarely ever does when it comes to their sex life, and shoves the elastic band aside, entering her first with one finger, then two.

“Fuck, yes…” Cat moans in pleasure. “More.”

As soon as the words are spoken, and a third finger slides inside, her hips buck feebly in an attempt to fuck herself on her wife’s hand, but the angle and the confined space they are in severely limit her movements. The sound of fingers gliding in and out of her is interrupted only by the sound of their heavy breathing, pushing Cat closer to the tipping point.

Not wanting to be the only one to come, she reaches behind Kara and inserts her hand under the waistband of the comfortable sweats, fingers quickly finding an abundance of moisture. Unlike Cat, her choice in clothing is much more prudent and provides easy access with minimal effort, and she is grateful for Kara’s forethought in planning.

Two fingers glide through the wetness and Kara quickly sets a rhythm fucking both the fingers and the thigh still wedged between her legs. Cat angles her leg  _ just right _ to increase the pressure on her wife’s clit and it has an immediate effect; Kara hips move faster, the pace rapidly increasing, and it’s obvious she’s about to come.

“Come with me,” she breathes. “I want to watch you come with me.”

How can Cat resist that delicious plea? She can’t. She takes her free hand and starts to stroke her own engorged clit with heavy pressure. The culmination of everything— the feel and speed of Kara’s fingers fucking her, her own fingers being squeezed by Kara’s body in pre-orgasmic pleasure, and the sight of the most beautiful woman in the universe, still fully clothed, and grinding on her leg—is enough that Cat wastes no more time in exploding.

“Shit! Fuck, I’m coming,” she cries out. She tries, really she does, to keep her eyes locked with Kara’s, but the pleasure is too great. Her eyes close and her head falls back. She hears her wife’s cries mingle with the sharp blast of the car horn as someone hits it with some part of their body— it’s hard to tell who, exactly, because they’re both so tangled— and Cat feels the contraction of muscles around her fingers and the rush of liquid signaling that Kara, too, is coming. 

Her eyes are still closed when she feels lips meet her own. They’re soft and pliable, and linger lazily. No pressure. Just soft caresses as they both come down from their high.

A few minutes pass before Cat wiggles the fingers still buried inside Kara. “One more?” she asks with a tired laugh.

“Yes. One more. Then we can go find that bed.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr by the same name - fourtseven


End file.
